Maryllises' "Ink Stains" starts with a small, ordinary moment: two friends on a school bus, a vial of ink, and a warning that gets ignored. The ink ends up on the other person's hands and shirt, and the speaker turns that mess into a wish. They want to be just as hard to wash away, a lasting mark in the other person's memory.
Underneath, the speaker is scared. A comment from their mother, that the people we love most can hurt us most, sticks in their head, and it spirals into worry about getting too attached and being left behind. The line about burning through the other person's brain "like a thought gone bad" shows how the wish to be remembered turns uneasy, almost desperate. The mood is tender but anxious, full of hope and dread at once. The ending trails off, as if the speaker can't bring themselves to finish thinking about unreturned affection.